“THIS MORNING, early, I went through the gardens; but found everything as usual. Near the door, I examined the path, for footprints; yet, here again, there was nothing to tell me whether, or not, I dreamed last night.
“It was only when I came to speak to the dog, that I discovered tangible1 proof, that something did happen. When I went to his kennel2, he kept inside, crouching3 up in one corner, and I had to coax4 him, to get him out. When, finally, he consented to come, it was in a strangely cowed and subdued5 manner. As I patted him, my attention was attracted to a greenish patch, on his left flank. On examining it, I found, that the fur and skin had been apparently6, burnt off; for the flesh showed, raw and scorched7. The shape of the mark was curious, reminding me of the imprint8 of a large talon9 or hand.
“I stood up, thoughtful. My gaze wandered towards the study window. The rays of the rising sun, shimmered10 on the smoky patch in the lower corner, causing it to fluctuate from green to red, oddly. Ah! that was undoubtedly11 another proof; and, suddenly, the horrible Thing I saw last night, rose in my mind. I looked at the dog, again. I knew the cause, now, of that hateful looking wound on his side — I knew, also, that, what I had seen last night, had been a real happening. And a great discomfort13 filled me. Pepper! Tip! And now this poor animal! . . . I glanced at the dog again, and noticed that he was licking at his wound.
“ ‘Poor brute14!’ I muttered, and bent15 to pat his head. At that, he got upon his feet, nosing and licking my hand, wistfully.
“Presently, I left him, having other matters to which to attend.
“After dinner, I went to see him, again. He seemed quiet, and disinclined to leave his kennel. From my sister, I have learnt that he has refused all food today. She appeared a little puzzled, when she told me; though quite unsuspicious of anything of which to be afraid.
“The day has passed, uneventfully enough. After tea, I went, again, to have a look at the dog. He seemed moody16, and somewhat restless; yet persisted in remaining in his kennel. Before locking up, for the night, I moved his kennel out, away from the wall, so that I shall be able to watch it from the small window, to-night. The thought came to me, to bring him into the house for the night; but consideration has decided17 me, to let him remain out. I cannot say that the house is, in any degree, less to be feared than the gardens. Pepper was in the house, and yet . . . .
“It is now two o’clock. Since eight, I have watched the kennel, from the small, side window in my study. Yet, nothing has occurred, and I am too tired to watch longer. I will go to bed . . . .
“During the night, I was restless. This is unusual for me; but, towards morning, I obtained a few hours’ sleep.
“I rose early, and, after breakfast, visited the dog. He was quiet; but morose18, and refused to leave his kennel. I wish there was some horse doctor near here; I would have the poor brute looked to. All day, he has taken no food; but has shown an evident desire for water — lapping it up, greedily. I was relieved to observe this.
“The evening has come, and I am in my study. I intend to follow my plan of last night, and watch the kennel. The door, leading into the garden, is bolted, securely. I am consciously glad there are bars to the windows . . . .
“Night: — Midnight has gone. The dog has been silent, up to the present. Through the side window, on my left, I can make out, dimly, the outlines of the kennel. For the first time, the dog moves, and I hear the rattle19 of his chain. I look out, quickly. As I stare, the dog moves again, restlessly, and I see a small patch of luminous20 light, shine from the interior of the kennel. It vanishes; then the dog stirs again, and, once more, the gleam comes. I am puzzled. The dog is quiet, and I can see the luminous thing, plainly. It shows distinctly. There is something familiar about the shape of it. For a moment, I wonder; then it comes to me, that it is not unlike the four fingers and thumb of a hand. Like a hand! And I remember the contour of that fearsome wound on the dog’s side. It must be the wound I see. It is luminous at night — Why? The minutes pass. My mind is filled with this fresh thing . . . .
“Suddenly, I hear a sound, out in the gardens. How it thrills through me. It is approaching. Pad, pad, pad. A prickly sensation traverses my spine21, and seems to creep across my scalp. The dog moves in his kennel, and whimpers, frightenedly. He must have turned round; for, now, I can no longer see the outline of his shining wound.
“Outside, the gardens are silent, once more, and I listen, fearfully. A minute passes, and another; then I hear the padding sound, again. It is quite close, and appears to be coming down the gravelled path. The noise is curiously22 measured and deliberate. It ceases outside the door; and I rise to my feet, and stand motionless. From the door, comes a slight sound — the latch23 is being slowly raised. A singing noise is in my ears, and I have a sense of pressure about the head ——
“The latch drops, with a sharp click, into the catch. The noise startles me afresh; jarring, horribly, on my tense nerves. After that, I stand, for a long while, amid an ever growing quietness. All at once, my knees begin to tremble, and I have to sit, quickly.
“An uncertain period of time passes, and, gradually, I begin to shake off the feeling of terror, that has possessed24 me. Yet, still I sit. I seem to have lost the power of movement. I am strangely tired, and inclined to doze25. My eyes open and close, and, presently, I find myself falling asleep, and waking, in fits and starts.
“It is some time later, that I am sleepily aware that one of the candles is guttering26. When I wake again, it has gone out, and the room is very dim, under the light of the one remaining flame. The semi-darkness troubles me little. I have lost that awful sense of dread27, and my only desire seems to be to sleep — sleep.
“Suddenly, although there is no noise, I am awake — wide awake. I am acutely conscious of the nearness of some mystery, of some overwhelming Presence. The very air seems pregnant with terror. I sit huddled28, and just listen, intently. Still, there is no sound. Nature, herself, seems dead. Then, the oppressive stillness is broken by a little eldritch scream of wind, that sweeps round the house, and dies away, remotely.
“I let my gaze wander across the half-lighted room. By the great clock in the far corner, is a dark, tall shadow. For a short instant, I stare, frightenedly. Then, I see that it is nothing, and am, momentarily, relieved.
“In the time that follows, the thought flashes through my brain, why not leave this house — this house of mystery and terror? Then, as though in answer, there sweeps up, across my sight, a vision of the wondrous29 Sea of Sleep, — the Sea of Sleep where she and I have been allowed to meet, after the years of separation and sorrow; and I know that I shall stay on here, whatever happens.
“Through the side window, I note the sombre blackness of the night. My glance wanders away, and round the room; resting on one shadowy object and another. Suddenly, I turn, and look at the window on my right; as I do so, I breathe quickly, and bend forward, with a frightened gaze at something outside the window, but close to the bars. I am looking at a vast, misty30 swine-face, over which fluctuates a flamboyant31 flame, of a greenish hue32. It is the Thing from the arena33. The quivering mouth seems to drip with a continual, phosphorescent slaver. The eyes are staring straight into the room, with an inscrutable expression. Thus, I sit rigidly34 — frozen.
“The Thing has begun to move. It is turning, slowly, in my direction. Its face is coming round towards me. It sees me. Two huge, inhumanly35 human, eyes are looking through the dimness at me. I am cold with fear; yet, even now, I am keenly conscious, and note, in an irrelevant36 way, that the distant stars are blotted37 out by the mass of the giant face.
“A fresh horror has come to me. I am rising from my chair, without the least intention. I am on my feet, and something is impelling38 me towards the door that leads out into the gardens. I wish to stop; but cannot. Some immutable39 power is opposed to my will, and I go slowly forward, unwilling40 and resistant41. My glance flies round the room, helplessly, and stops at the window. The great swine-face has disappeared, and I hear, again, that stealthy pad, pad, pad. It stops outside the door — the door towards which I am being compelled . . . .
“There succeeds a short, intense silence; then there comes a sound. It is the rattle of the latch, being slowly lifted. At that, I am filled with desperation. I will not go forward another step. I make a vast effort to return; but it is, as though I press back, upon an invisible wall. I groan42 out loud, in the agony of my fear, and the sound of my voice is frightening. Again comes that rattle, and I shiver, clammily. I try — aye, fight and struggle, to hold back, back; but it is no use . . . .
“I am at the door, and, in a mechanical way, I watch my hand go forward, to undo12 the topmost bolt. It does so, entirely43 without my volition44. Even as I reach up towards the bolt, the door is violently shaken, and I get a sickly whiff of mouldy air, which seems to drive in through the interstices of the doorway45. I draw the bolt back, slowly, fighting, dumbly, the while. It comes out of its socket46, with a click, and I begin to shake, aguishly. There are two more; one at the bottom of the door; the other, a massive affair, is placed about the middle.
“For, perhaps a minute, I stand, with my arms hanging slackly, by my sides. The influence to meddle47 with the fastenings of the door, seems to have gone. All at once, there comes the sudden rattle of iron, at my feet. I glance down, quickly, and realise, with an unspeakable terror, that my foot is pushing back the lower bolt. An awful sense of helplessness assails48 me. . . . The bolt comes out of its hold, with a slight, ringing sound and I stagger on my feet, grasping at the great, central bolt, for support. A minute passes, an eternity49; then another. . . . My God, help me! I am being forced to work upon the last fastening. I will not! Better to die, than open to the Terror, that is on the other side of the door. Is there no escape? . . . God help me, I have jerked the bolt half out of its socket! My lips emit a hoarse50 scream of terror, the bolt is three parts drawn51, now, and still my unconscious hands work towards my doom52. Only a fraction of steel, between my soul and That. Twice, I scream out in the supreme53 agony of my fear; then, with a mad effort, I tear my hands away. My eyes seem blinded. A great blackness is falling upon me. Nature has come to my rescue. I feel my knees giving. There is a loud, quick thudding upon the door, and I am falling, falling . . . .
“I must have lain there, at least a couple of hours. As I recover, I am aware that the other candle has burnt out, and the room is in an almost total darkness. I cannot rise to my feet, for I am cold, and filled with a terrible cramp54. Yet my brain is clear, and there is no longer the strain of that unholy influence.
“Cautiously, I get upon my knees, and feel for the central bolt. I find it, and push it securely back into its socket; then the one at the bottom of the door. By this time, I am able to rise to my feet, and so manage to secure the fastening at the top. After that, I go down upon my knees, again, and creep away among the furniture, in the direction of the stairs. By doing this, I am safe from observation from the window.
“I reach the opposite door, and, as I leave the study, cast one nervous glance over my shoulder, towards the window. Out in the night, I seem to catch a glimpse of something impalpable; but it may be only a fancy. Then, I am in the passage, and on the stairs.
“Reaching my bedroom, I clamber into bed, all clothed as I am, and pull the bedclothes over me. There, after awhile, I begin to regain55 a little confidence. It is impossible to sleep; but I am grateful for the added warmth of the bedclothes. Presently, I try to think over the happenings of the past night; but, though I cannot sleep, I find that it is useless, to attempt consecutive56 thought. My brain seems curiously blank.
“Towards morning, I begin to toss, uneasily. I cannot rest, and, after awhile, I get out of bed, and pace the floor. The wintry dawn is beginning to creep through the windows, and shows the bare discomfort of the old room. Strange, that, through all these years, it has never occurred to me how dismal57 the place really is. And so a time passes.
“From somewhere down stairs, a sound comes up to me. I go to the bedroom door, and listen. It is Mary, bustling58 about the great, old kitchen, getting the breakfast ready. I feel little interest. I am not hungry. My thoughts, however; continue to dwell upon her. How little the weird59 happenings in this house seem to trouble her. Except in the incident of the Pit creatures, she has seemed unconscious of anything unusual occurring. She is old, like myself; yet how little we have to do with one another. Is it because we have nothing in common; or only that, being old, we care less for society, than quietness? These and other matters pass through my mind, as I meditate60; and help to distract my attention, for awhile, from the oppressive thoughts of the night.
“After a time, I go to the window, and, opening it, look out. The sun is now above the horizon, and the air, though cold, is sweet and crisp. Gradually, my brain clears, and a sense of security, for the time being, comes to me. Somewhat happier, I go down stairs, and out into the garden, to have a look at the dog.
“As I approach the kennel, I am greeted by the same mouldy stench that assailed61 me at the door last night. Shaking off a momentary62 sense of fear, I call to the dog; but he takes no heed63, and, after calling once more, I throw a small stone into the kennel. At this, he moves, uneasily, and I shout his name, again; but do not go closer. Presently, my sister comes out, and joins me, in trying to coax him from the kennel.
“In a little the poor beast rises, and shambles64 out lurching queerly. In the daylight he stands swaying from side to side, and blinking stupidly. I look and note that the horrid65 wound is larger, much larger, and seems to have a whitish, fungoid appearance. My sister moves to fondle him; but I detain her, and explain that I think it will be better not to go too near him for a few days; as it is impossible to tell what may be the matter with him; and it is well to be cautious.
“A minute later, she leaves me; coming back with a basin of odd scraps66 of food. This she places on the ground, near the dog, and I push it into his reach, with the aid of a branch, broken from one of the shrubs67. Yet, though the meat should be tempting68, he takes no notice of it; but retires to his kennel. There is still water in his drinking vessel69, so, after a few moments’ talk, we go back to the house. I can see that my sister is much puzzled as to what is the matter with the animal; yet it would be madness, even to hint the truth to her.
“The day slips away, uneventfully; and night comes on. I have determined70 to repeat my experiment of last night. I cannot say that it is wisdom; yet my mind is made up. Still, however, I have taken precautions; for I have driven stout71 nails in at the back of each of the three bolts, that secure the door, opening from the study into the gardens. This will, at least, prevent a recurrence72 of the danger I ran last night.
“From ten to about two-thirty, I watch; but nothing occcurs; and, finally, I stumble off to bed, where I am soon asleep.
收听单词发音 |
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tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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kennel
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| n.狗舍，狗窝 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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coax
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| v.哄诱，劝诱，用诱哄得到，诱取 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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imprint
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| n.印痕，痕迹；深刻的印象；vt.压印，牢记 | |
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talon
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| n.爪；（如爪般的）手指；爪状物 | |
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shimmered
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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morose
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| adj.脾气坏的，不高兴的 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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doze
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| v.打瞌睡；n.打盹，假寐 | |
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guttering
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| n.用于建排水系统的材料；沟状切除术；开沟 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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flamboyant
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| adj.火焰般的，华丽的，炫耀的 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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arena
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| n.竞技场，运动场所；竞争场所，舞台 | |
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rigidly
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| adv.刻板地，僵化地 | |
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inhumanly
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| adv.无人情味地，残忍地 | |
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irrelevant
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| adj.不恰当的，无关系的，不相干的 | |
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blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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impelling
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| adj.迫使性的，强有力的v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的现在分词 ) | |
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immutable
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| adj.不可改变的，永恒的 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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resistant
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| adj.(to)抵抗的，有抵抗力的 | |
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42
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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volition
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| n.意志；决意 | |
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45
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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46
socket
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| n.窝，穴，孔，插座，插口 | |
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meddle
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| v.干预，干涉，插手 | |
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assails
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| v.攻击( assail的第三人称单数 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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50
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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51
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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52
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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53
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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54
cramp
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| n.痉挛；[pl.](腹)绞痛；vt.限制，束缚 | |
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55
regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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56
consecutive
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| adj.连续的，联贯的，始终一贯的 | |
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57
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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58
bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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60
meditate
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| v.想，考虑，（尤指宗教上的）沉思，冥想 | |
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61
assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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62
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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64
shambles
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| n.混乱之处；废墟 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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66
scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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67
shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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68
tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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69
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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70
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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72
recurrence
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| n.复发，反复，重现 | |
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